The Burning Storm
by Merlinhaus
Summary: A half year after Garrosh's trial the world of Azeroth is pushed into another time of strife. Maybe this time will be the end of it. (Runs along with Hellscream's Redemption. Will be using those chapters only heavily edited as part of this story.
1. Sir Marek the Steelsong

It was night and a blaring storm raged overhead. Massive drops of water fell from the sky and Marek's head and back ached. Marek had ridden from Lakeshire to Stormwind in the night while in full armor. now he was paying the price, but that didn't matter now. He had to get the news of the resurgence of the Blackrock Clan to the king. Marek , just yesterday, was the captain of a company of men sent out from Stormwind with orders to spy on the remaining Blackrock clan. Most had left with their previous chief Malkorok to join with Garrosh Hellscream, but many had stayed behind and a new warchief was selected, the strong Makgor Hellfury. Even though they had lost half their orcs, the blackrock clan accepted the fealty of the 15 ogre tribes in the area, a 500 troll Amani warband that had happened in the area, the remaining Dark Iron dwarves in Shadowforge city, and a company of goblin engineers. Now with these new allies the Blackrock horde had never been more powerful.

The only Alliance presence in the area had been a ranger company under John Keeshan and a militia group under Lady Morgan Grey. These groups had been pushed back into redridge and has been defending those lands with the Stormwind garrison for months. Marek had been sent with a group of cavaliers to take control of the situation. There had been a good lot of fighting. The goblin and dwarf war engines were way more powerful than anything Marek had. The Grey Lions ,as the group began to call itself, only had three cannons and two war wagons against the heavy armored divison of the clan. Marek had to call in a lot of favors to armor Redridge against the clan, but before these favors could be fulfilled the clan smashed the lions in one pitched battle. Marek and a few others got away. They went to clear out Lakeshire and any other citizens in the area. Once they got to Eastvale the local Marshal there took in the refugees and the surviving soldiers. Marek went to ride to Stormwind so he could report to King Varian.

All night Marek had rode and now he gave his reigns to the Stormwind Keep stable hand as two royal guards ran up.

" What business do you have for the court at this hour." yelled the first guard trying to be heard over the storm. Both guards had there hands on there sword pommels.

"I'm Sir Marek the Steelsong. I here on urgent business for the King. He must hear me tonight!" yelled Marek as he took out a missive written in the King's own hand, but the two guards already knew of the Steelsong. One started to jog with Marek as the other sprinted off to wake the king. Marek hadn't waited long in front of the throne until King Varian and Prince Anduin showed up.

Marek kneeled before the king ignoring the ache in his body. "Your Majesty, I have urgent news from Redridge. I wish for you to hear" The king made a gesture to stand as he sat on the throne with Anduin taking his place to the right.

"Yes. Out with it Marek." said the King in a tired voice.

"The Blackrocks had chosen a new leader and gained Shadowforge city and the dark irons there with it, All the ogre clans in the steppes, a Amani warband, and a company of goblins. They have a strong armored division with ironclads and many cannons. They also have reenslaved the dragons of the steppes with also a few goblin war kites. They smashed through Redridge and on there way here now!". By the time Marek was done King Varian was standing and was already coming up with a battle plan.

"Thank you Marek for bringing this to my attention. Somebody wake up my war councilors and Genn. We must plan for an attack. Sir Marek is to be fed and given rest here for as long as he needs. I may have need for you once more." The king was already walking by the time he had ended talking. He and his household rushed off to do their duties. One of the guards that had met Marek at the gate walked up to where Marek was standing soaking wet and tired.

"The keep's kitchen is over there behind those doors to the right, Gabe the keep's cook should be in there preparing breakfast. He's sure to make you something. When your done there come out and I'll show you to your room." said the guard as he gestured to the room on the left of the throne. Marek said his thanks and made his way there.

Marek had eaten a fast breakfast of crispy bacon, toasted bread, a honey biscuit , and a flagon of apple cider. He then went to the guard and followed him to his rooms. His room was a nice room if not a small one in a corner by the keep's library. Marek had slept until noon when one of the King's pages came to wake him up.

" His Majesty wishes to see you in the war room, Sir Marek." said the young page. Marek had woken up to the pages knocking and had grunted his acknowledgement. Marek's back still ached from his ride and it had been tough to wake up. _I'm getting too old for this. This playing at war._ At 55 winters Marek was an elder amongst the masses of young soldiers. He was feeling the affects of old age. He promised himself that he would retire in a year. _If I make it that long._

Marek got dressed in a borrowed doublet and we a little too small for Marek's thick build, but they were dry which Marek hadn't been in quite sometime. Marek got escorted to the king by the page. As Marek walked in he saw a tired bunch of men and women. There was about seven people in the room. Most were still in there sleep clothes. All of them were either the King's council members or military leaders. Varian was first to notice him and gestured him over.

"Sir Marek. We have been planning a response to your news. We will require your assistance if you are willing." said Varian.

"Aye sire. What is it?"

"You will lead a company of soldiers to Eastvale. Pick up the fighting men there and march to the three corners and wait there for reinforcements from Darkshire. You will be given two thousand fighters. That is a mixed group of archers, gunners, footmen, and cavalry. You will also have command of ten of our own ironclads, fifteen armored war wagons, and a air company of heliballoons and griffon riders. Also there is already a shipment of artillery and engineers from Goldshire on the way to the campsite as we speak." Marek was surprised and it showed on his face. This was a big operation he would have thought that the King would take it upon himself to lead this. Instead it had fallen on him.

"Yes sire. I will gladly accept the position." _This will be my last. I will retire after this battle._

"Good. You will find your lieutenants and captains by the front gates waiting for you. May Tyr watch over you." The king then ordered everybody to leave except Mathias Shaw to leave. As everybody left Marek over heard the King whisper to Shaw something about the presence in Northrend. Marek wanted to know more, but that would have to wait. He needed to get to the gates fast.

Once Marek had ridden to the gates he saw his company. A big group of men waited for him. He formed all the men together into marching lines then started on there way to Eastvale. it had taken three hours, but they were at Eastvale. Marek collected Keeshan's rangers and Lady Morgan's men. From there they marched another two hours until they decided to wait. There would be another three hour march tomorrow until they were at the camp site. They just camped on the road. No travel would be had on this road. All the civilians had been moved back to Eastvale and were ordered to stay there as it's the most defensible point around. As the camp slept Marek found it hard to sleep. He walked the camp. it was spread out among the road, but he had the men put the ironclads and wagons around the main group to serve as a makeshift wall. Marek walked among the night guards until he saw John Keeshan sitting by a fire sharpening a dagger and some arrows. Marek didn't much care for the hotheaded Keeshan, but since they were tied together for the time being Marek decided to try to be on good terms with the man.

"How does the night fare for you Captain Keeshan?" asked Marek as he took a seat on a camp chair in front of Keeshan. John looked up from his sharpening and sighed.

"Well enough commander. Just preparing for tomorrow. When do we move?"

"Dawn. We are all still primarily packed. Just a few fires to put out and bed rolls to be tied back up, so we should get a start early. I will send out the call to wake up one hour before dawn. That should give the men time to eat and pack for the journey." Keeshan nodded his approval. The two men sat in silence for a while. Marek stared into the flames. He couldn't get out of his head what the king had said earlier about Northrend. _Does this Black Rock resurgence have anything to do with it?_ Marek shook away those thoughts. These days did have dark feelings. It was like the world had lost something. It came up shortly after Garrosh was defeated. They had his trial and he was sent to Pandaria. Six months after that it was like the world darkened. Things started to turn for the worse. Illnesses, political strife, and more started to pop up.

Stormwind had just been able to significantly start to take back control of the lands it had lost recently. Gryan Stoutmantle took back Westfall from the Defias. Darkshire was reinforced with men and Duskwood as a whole was being resettled. The few camps in Stranglethorn were reinforced, But those good days were lost now. Some uneasiness hung in the air. Stormwind's parliament couldn't be anymore fractured. With all three estates fracturing into parties that just fought all the time. The nobles wanted their rights restored from the king as the king took more power for himself during these past few calamities. The Church of Light wanted to reassert their power that had waned since Stormwind took on a more liberal approach to policies. They started to fight back against Varians recent legalization of the darker arts. The Church had gained many fanatics and hatreds that hadn't been seen in a long time in Stormwind started to resurge. The Churches more radical bishops had been preaching hate against the other races and magic users. Many took up the call, but they were still a minority. The common leaders found themselves needing to defend there more recently won rights. A illness of some sort was crawling among the Stormish.

This was just Stormwind. Everywhere else was also falling to pieces. In Ironforge the three clans were at it again. Constant arguing. Darnassus was a hotbox of strife with the recent reintroduction of the Highborne into their nation. The Gilnean worgen started to find there place, but now there was strife between the worgen who wanted to keep their abilities and the ones who wanted to be cured. Ivar Bloodfang led the ones who wanted to keep the curse. King Genn led the ones who wanted to be cured. Darius Crowley was a mediator between the two, but ultimately sided with Genn. The Exodar Draenei were getting used to there home on Azuremyst, but some of them wanted to leave and go fight the Legion. Then there were others who wanted to stay on their adopted home. The High Prophet has been the voice of the Defenders as they have taken to calling themselves while a vindicator named Maraad has taken the leadership of the Revengers. The Gnomeregan is the only Alliance nation currently not in a flaux. The Gnomes have taken their home back and have regained their previous strength. Jojo Ironbrew wanted to stay Alliance after Alysa Cloudsinger went back to the moving turtle she called home. This caused the Tushui pandaren to split almost half. All this and there were rumors of a paladin in the north called Andarin who knew the location of Calia Menethil who would be the queen of lordaeron. Danath Trollbane and came and took back Stromgarde and the surrounding lands. Only leaving Hammerfall as per the treaty with the Horde.

Marek knew all this had to be for a reason, but that was for later. Marek stood up said his good night to Keeshan and made his way back to his spot. There was a beroll laid out with a pack on the ground. In the pack and on the ground were maps, messages, and battle plans. Shoving all the papers into the pack, Marek laid on the bedroll. It was high summer so he didn't need a blanket. He slept until a squire woke him up. It was still dark, but Marek could tell by the lightening horizon it was about an hour from dawn. As he sat up he heard the camp being packed up. The hum of the steam powered Ironclads as they got ready, horses naying, and men shouting orders filled the air. Marek had sent the air brigade ahead to scout and to meet up with the artillery. The company would be with them in about three hours. Marek strapped his armor on and got his horse ready to ride. Marek rode down the line getting men into position and then commanded the company to move. He then rode up to the front. _I have been fighting these blackrocks since the First War. It's time to end them, so I can rest._


	2. Garrosh Hellscream

The night was stormy and dark. The sea's were brewing up a fierce storm. The ship rocked back and forth. Garrosh was chained up in a cage and felt every bump and roll of the sea. Taran Zhu was taking him back to Pandaria from Orgrimmar after the siege. _This is warm waters. Pandaria is everything Northrend wasn't._ Gorehowl was hanging on the wall knocking back forth with the waves. a small trickle of water was leaking from above, but overall this boat was solid built.

This pandaren junk was a large boat. One of the largest boats Garrosh has ever seen The Pandarens weren't natural sailors. After not having left the mainland in 10,000 years meant that the fleet of junks they had were either really old or really new. This was a newer one. With a painted red hull and three large sails and many more smaller sails, this junk was fast. The ship not only carried Garrosh, but also a delegation of diplomats from Kalimdor and The Eastern Kingdoms.

A door opened up. Garrosh heard heavy Pandaren footsteps and the clanking of weapons. Taran Zhu appeared then from the stairway. He was with two guards both with black leather armor and swords at their sides.

"Garrosh Hellscream, We are a mile away from the port once there we will begin your trials." Said Taran Zhu in a heavily accented Common. Garrosh just grunted. Not wanting to deal with this Pandaren any longer. Taran Zhu scoffed and turned and started to walk up the stairs. When Garrosh heard the door close he sighed. _How could I be the warchief of the True Horde one day then a prisoner on my way to trial the next._ Garrosh fell asleep then. He only awoke when he heard the clanking of the guards again coming down the stairway.

"Wake up Hellscream! We've made landfall." said a cheery guard. Garrosh stood up he towered over the two pandaren. He was also bigger and corded with muscle. His tattooed brown skin glistened with rainwater and sweat. He only had a linen tunic on and underclothes. They had taken all his jewels. It was a affront to orcish pride to take another's gold rings. The two pandaren unlocked his chains from the ship making sure they were still tight on him. As the led him up Garrosh saw the red dawn. If Garrosh could say anything about Pandaria, It was that it was beautiful. Big green hills and valleys with a beautiful sky that always lights up just right with colors. Garrosh did feel bad about trying to destroy this place, but he just thought of it as a necessary evil. It was humid and hot, but a breeze was rolling off the water. Garrosh was led down a ramp and onto the dock. From there it would be a long walk up to White Lotus Temple. Garrosh was flanked by the diplomats on various mounts of their people. Also always on his right and left were the guards from the ship. The diplomats talked of their plans and their orders from their respective leaders.

"Varian wants us to learn more of the farming techniques of the Pandaren to use back in Westfall" said the Stormwind diplomat, Lord Robert Croswell. Croswell was a young man with dark black hair and an ever present smirk that made Garrosh wanted to crush his head in.

"The Council wants me to learn of the forging used here, by all the inhabitants. They want to forge the three hammers into a major power in their own right." stated the Ironforge ambassador Durngar Longaxe. Durngar was average height for a dwarf. He was wide though and strong. He had the bronze hair of a bronzebeard, but the bright green eyes of the wildhammer. Obviously a mixed breed dwarf. The rest of the diplomats were drowned out by the noise of the village they were at. Garrosh hated this and hated all the people he saw. They all looked at him as if he were trash as if he was lesser. HE WAS A HELLSCREAM. THE HELLSCREAM. He vowed to teach them all he wasn't trash. At the end of the village there was a cart with an ox. Garrosh started to step up on the cart. Then he heard the heavy voice of Taran Zhu.

"Hellscream, Get down. You walk to the temple." Taran made a gesture with his hand and the pandaren villagers started to load supplies up on the cart. and Taran Zhu told the majority of the party to go ahead and start on the journey. "Hellscream and I will start on our trip after we are all loaded up. You all start up the mountain. It will be a few hours and heavy storms are rolling in."

All the diplomats and there men left up the mountain trail. Garrosh was chained to the back of the cart. They were just about done with loading the supplies. Taran Zhu got up front and one of his soldiers took the reins. Taran Zhu commanded that they start up the mountain and that they did. The cart lurched forward as the ox began moving. Garrosh walked at a good pace behind them. Gorehowl was in the cart in front of him. If he just didn't have arm shackles he could escape. _No I will bide my time and strike when I can. This is Ashenvale I shouldn't put all my eggs in one basket._ Garrosh walked upright, but his chin was level. The arrogance was gone from him, but the pride would be harder to break. Hours went by as they made their way up the mountain pass. Once at the temple the sun was starting to set and colors danced in the sky. Out with the clouds graceful wind serpents of all colors flew all around. The scene was ruined by the black and white fur and golden eyes of Taran Zhu, who had come up to Garrosh.

"You will stay in the quarters I give you. You will then start your trials tomorrow and probably be put down" said Taran. Garrosh scoffed. _This pandaren thinks to scare me._

"I am Garrosh Hellscream, It'll take more than just you to kill me." stated Garrosh. Taran Zhu frowned slightly as a gentle breeze came by and ruffled his fur.

"Who said it would be me." Taran turned then and started to yell orders to the various soldiers and servants. Garrosh's guards came up then and started to lead him into the temple. They took a case of stairs down into the dungeons. There the guards left him. The cell was dark. With only one torch in a holder outside the cell. On the floor there was a ox fur blanket and a straw mattress. Garrosh was exhausted from the day's events and went to sleep quick.

The next morning Garrosh was woken up by Taran Zhu and three guards. They had some rice and fish for him to eat before they went to trial. Garrosh was about to refuse, but ate as he was starving after not eating at all yesterday. The only noise while he ate were the noise he made from chewing. The day was silent and the three pandaren in front of him were quiet. After he was done Garrosh stood up and they began to shackle him right away. As they stepped out of the cell Garrosh noticed that Taran Zhu had Gorehowl on the wall. Taran went to pick it up as they led him up the stairs and out to the courtyard. Once out there everything was white, but once Garrosh's eyes adjusted to the light he saw what was waiting for him.

"Garrosh Hellscream, You are guilty of many crimes and you will be held accountable for them." said Yu'lon the Jade Serpent. Garrosh was awed struck. The August Celestials were powerful beings.. All around he saw the diplomats and soldiers of the Alliance and Horde. Forming a wall from them and him were the Shado Pan. "We will begin now."

For the first time since Garadar Garrosh was scared.


	3. Jailor of the Damned

In his internal place Bolvar never got visitors. Only a few had come by. He couldn't talk to them only watch them from his new throne. Bolvar never felt more alone than now, but he guessed this was the price for being the jailor of the damned. For how much longer he could hold that title he didn't know. For a year now his power had been weakening. Stronger undead and independent necromancers had been breaking away his prisoners. Making their own Scourges. He knew some were working with the disappeared Kel'thuzad. Others were independent. In any case it was terrifying. Frostmourne shattered pieces were stolen from the citadel recently and Bolvar feared that Kel'thuzad had something to do with it.

As Bolvar's power over the undead weakened so did his icy prison. It melted a little everyday and soon he'd be able to fully move his hands. _I should leave Northrend when I can. Maybe I will take up with the Ebon Knights._ Bolvar would have sighed if he could have. RIght now he was only alive through the magic of the dragonflights fire. Bolvar decided he would go to the red dragonflight once he could and maybe get some kind of blessing before he left. He still had some connection to the light and he had even been blessed with some of the powers of the dragonflight. He no longer was a mortal. Bolvar didn't need rest or fodder. He ran off the life energy that was ingrained into him with Alexstrasza's fire. Thinking of his inner fire seemed to warm up the ice more and more. Bolvar could move his hands and feet now.

In the distance there was a screech. A red drake flew by the citadel window. Bolvar was surprised he hadn't seen a dragon around here in years. He knew there were two at the dragonshrine, but they never left there. He could hear footsteps bouncing off the walls as somebody came into the room. It was a high elf dressed in red armor, but Bolvar new this wasn't any normal high elf. The elf carried to much power in him.

"Bolvar Fordragon. I have come here to release you of your vigilance. Your power has weakened to were you no longer control any undead and the Helm of Damnation has become useless." spoke the dragon in elf form. The elf began to move his arms in a way then he opened his mouth and fire came searing out. Melting away all the ice that still surrounded Bolvar.

"What has happened to cause this?" asked a surprised Bolvar as he got used to moving again.

"A great darkness is coming. Not even us dragons know what it is. All we know it is dark and more terrible than anything we have fought lately.

"Could it be the Legion?"

"Mayhaps, but the Queen isn't sure." A chest appeared next to the elf then. Some kind of spell. "Master Bolvar you are immortal, but you aren't invincible. Here is some armor and a sword crafted by the Dragonsworn with dragon magic. They are made from titansteel and enchanted by all the former aspects. It will serve you well."

Bolvar looked upon the armor and sword. The armor was heavy gold plate with black scale mail for the joint pieces. The helmet was a black and gold great helm. The sword was a katana forged in the way of the Tishino clan of humans that were found in the South Seas. There was a swordsman in Stormwind who was a part of the clan. Master Wu was his name. Bolvar strapped it all on and the dragon-elf nodded.

"Very well Master Bolvar. You will be given teleportation to Stormwind. You must warn King Varian as to what I have told you. All available dragons are coming here to discuss what is to happen. We can spare nobody, so you must do the journey." After the dragon stopped talking he turned and muttered a phrase and a portal opened. "Destiny favor you Fordragon."

"Many thanks… What shall I call you?" asked Bolvar as the dragon never gave his name.

"You may call me Cleos, now we must separate." The dragon took no time. He morphed into a dragon. The dragon turned it's head to Bolvar and screeched then took flight and was gone before Bolvar could even step towards the portal. Bolvar found himself looking into the portal. Every once in awhile you would see a glimpse of the gates, but mostly just swirling purple and green. Bolvar look down and then look into the sky through a hole in the broken citadel ceiling. _Oh Tyr. Hear my pleas. Bless me with your warmth and with your praise._ Bolvar's face grew determined as he stepped into the portal.


	4. Garrosh Hellscream (part 2)

It was a bright day and the wind was blowing hard. The smell of rain was in the air as Garrosh Hellscream stood before the four demigods in front of him. He showed no emotion, but Garrosh was scared. Scared and angry. These ancients were judging him not just on passing, but for everything he has ever done and it might just cost him his life.

"To start. You are a fierce warrior, Not without some honor and greatly skilled with your family's axe. This is a good quality you have." said Xuen. Xuen shined in the sun white his mighty white coat of fur. "You will continue this trend. I will judge your trial of strength."

Garrosh was confused. This wasn't a warcrime trial. This would be a personal trial… They would make him their SLAVE! _NO never will I be a slave to another. I WILL NOT BE MY FATHER!_ Garrosh spoke then in rage.

"NO! You Celestials think you have all the answers. That YOU are allowed to judge and enslave all that walk on Pandaria, but I am no pandaren that grovel to your feet!" Garrosh yelled. His lungs on fire from the fast breaths he had taken.

"Garrosh your iron will is legendary. Your former honor is as well known. You will never be a slave. The trials are to teach you something. To check your pride and your shreds of honor you still have." said Niuzao the black Ox. "You will become the champion you were born to be."

Garrosh thought on those words. He felt like a child again. Being reprimanded by Geyah for wrestling with Jorin in the tent, But the ox wasn't without some thought. _I will play your game and I will conquer it._ Garrosh kneeled then.

"I will do your trials Celestials. I will do them and I will be taught by you to become better." Garrosh spoke in a loud voice to have some measure of control. Everybody was quiet then. The wind blew and on the over the walls of the courtyard dark clouds were rolling in. Then the voice of the Jade Serpent spoke.

"Stand Garrosh. Taran take his shackles off." Garrosh stood up straight and held out his arms. Taran came over and unshackled him. Yu'lon spoke again. "Garrosh you will travel over Pandaria and you will have your trials. You will learn and then you will take to the world to right the wrongs of the past."

It started to rain then. Lightning lit up the sky and thunder boomed. For a moment it seemed to be the third coming of the Thunder King, but Garrosh saw a different omen in the clouds. The ancestors were crying out to him. They were crying out to warn him of the darkness brewing. The Legion was hurling towards Azeroth. They wanted him to be a champion and a champion he would be.

"I cannot do this just myself Celestials. I will need an army. The Horde and the Alliance will not follow me. I will need the Shado Pan." If Garrosh could get an army again he would go to Northrend and find his own place. He would do what he set out to do in Pandaria, but this time He wouldn't fall prey to the Old God's temptation, but first he needed to get through these trials.

"Of course Hellscream. You can't face a Legion by yourself." Yu'lon said. The serpent seemed to have a smile playing on it's face, if a serpent could smile. "BLACK LOTUS STEP UP." commanded Xuen with a growl. To the left three hundred warriors of all races became visible. making the crowd of diplomats yelp in surprise. The warriors all dropped their heavy robes and cloaks showing black leather armor and weapons. "These soldiers came to us in times of need just as you have Hellscream, now it's time for you to help this world. it's time to fight!"

Garrosh smirked. He had an army now a true army made up of champions and well trained men and women. _This might just work._ Taran Zhu came by his side then with Gorehowl in his hands. He held it out to Garrosh to take.

"Help this world Hellscream, You and these champions all have a part to play in the coming darkness." Taran Zhu forced the axe into Garrosh's hands that moment. Garrosh took it up in an instant. Then for the first time in two months the world heard the hellscream.


	5. Zaela

After the Siege of Orgrimmar, Zaela had rounded up all the survivors of her side and made a break for southern Kalimdor. They were currently in Tanaris struggling to survive. A group of human pirates had joined them for the time as they were in a mutually beneficial alliance. The Zaela's band gave the pirates workers and soldiers while the pirates gave the band supplies. The band could easily take everything for itself, but Zaela was tired of fighting for the time being and, even though they are human, Zaela found herself liking the captain of the group. A burly man by the name of Captain Adrian Longbarrow. He was a powerful warrior and a stoic leader. Zaela was becoming friends with the captain.

All in all their coalition was about two thousand strong. With twelve hundred being orcs, five hundred humans, two hundred goblins, and a hundred or so ogres. There were only about six ships, but one was a big galleon that was able to to carry about seven hundred of them, so they could all fit on the fleet, but some of the ships were needing big repairs others were only minor repair. They were going to be here for atleast another week repairing the ships. The band was getting restless and the pirates were made they couldn't just leave on the ships that were seaworthy and leave the band behind. The pirate that had brought that up was found chopped in two the next morning. That incident almost caused a riot, but her and Captain Adrian put it down. So for now there uneasy peace lasted within the makeshift holdfasts walls. Zaela was in her tent making plans when Adrian came in.

"Warlord, we must plan what is to happen after we repair the ships." said the captain in a Lordaeronian accent.

"What of it?" growled Zaela. She didn't want to have this conversation. She had enough goblins to pilot the boats. One wrong word from Adrian, even with her begrudging respect for him, and she would and could kill him and all the humans. Adrian heard the anger in her voice and laughed his dry laugh.

"You think I was going to say something bad. No Zaela. My band would like to join you. I know your group hates everything human, but I feel like my boys could prove themselves to you orcs." Zaela was surprised. She didn't think this would happen. She had a plan for this however. _Orcs respect only strength. The humans must prove their strength._

"Captain. To join us you must prove yourselves equal to us orcs." The captain stood stoically as ever and replied in his deep voice.

"How do we do that, Warlord?" Zaela grinned a dark smile.

"I have a idea." _Either way I win._

The morning was cold as the sands stirred in the coming light. Zaela had been up for a few hours preparing for today's events. today would mark a day of proving. The humans would have an all out melee with Zaela's top five hundred fighters. She would be leading her fighters in the melee and Adrian would be leading his. It was to be a bloody day, but hopeful they would prove themselves capable. Zaela had made a big circle in the sand outside of the encampment. She and some others put wooden posts in the ground. All fighters must stay in the circle during the fight.

Zaela was standing by the circle when she saw the pirates start to walk towards the area. Zaela turned to one of her fighters and told her to gather the rest. At the beginning of the line of pirates Zaela saw Adrian leading his men. They were all decked out for battle. Most had some sort of leather jerkin for protection. Others had a steel breastplate, but that was all for armor except some here and there pieces of other parts. Adrian wore a studded leather jerkin with a steel half cap and engraved steel vambraces. His greying raven hair was tied by a red silk ribbon into a tail that fell out of the cap and down to the middle of his back. On his left hip there was a curved cutlass and on his left hand was a small metal buckler. The other pirates were armed similarly, with rapiers and cutlasses. Some had half spears one had a trident.

"Warlord Zaela, We have come to prove our valor in this fighting pit." declared Adrian with a gesture at the circle. Behind the pirates came Zaela's fighters. The orc fighters look brutal. Some were in heavy black plate armor. Others only in a loincloth. They wielded small and big axes. Two had giant mauls. Ten had small mauls. One had only had a pair of two long hooks on his gauntlets and only a loincloth on with a pair of wrapped boots. The human pirates looked terrified except Adrian who smiled uncharastically. "Are you ready, Warlord?"

"Yes, Lets begin!" yelled Zaela who had a hungry smile on her lips. Zaela herself was in her black plate armor with her sharp double headed axe. The orcs went to one side with Zaela in front. The humans to the other side with Adrian in front. "Blow the horn!"

As the horn blew the two sides charged at each other. A chorus of war cries went up as the sound of battle commenced. At the beginning the orcs had caused a massive blow to the humans as they crashed into them. The rules were to try to land only non mortal blows, but as the two sides crashed Zaela could hear the screams of dying humans and orcs. Adrian had taken down a big brute of a orc, Drakken, and fell at least two others until Zaela lost sight of him. Zaela had cut down a few humans, but killed none. All in all the melee only lasted five minutes until only five humans were left standing and twenty orcs. The circle was cleared by the few who weren't fighting. The wounded were being treated. The dead were being buried.

Among the five humans stood Adrian with his face bloody. There was a dent in his helm and his jerkin was slashed down the middle, but other than that he was fine. The other humans were breathing heavy and the remaining orcs were ready to pounce on their victims, but Zaela called it to an end. _Perhaps they have proven themselves._ As all the remaining fighters sat. Others brought them water and food. One brought a bench for Zaela to stand on while she talked to everybody.

"Adrian of the Sandstone pirates you and your men have fought bravely and while you lost nobody can doubt your strength. While I hate your kind these few have proven themselves. We will join together." yelled Zaela to be heard by everyone present. Adrian stood up then and took off his cap.

"Warlord Zaela. I swear to you my everlasting loyalty to you and you heirs for as long as they live. You have the fealty of my men as well. We all join your band." The other humans stood at this time and kneeled and all professed some kind of loyalty or fealty to her. _This is good. Another five hundred men and a small fleet. I just need to find where to go._ Zaela needed a safe place where they could grow in strength.

After the melee and the joining of the two groups. There was a celebration going on in the encampment. As both sides came together in drink and contest, but most importantly they were getting used to each other. Which was good. There didn't need to be a mutiny on the ships. Zaela was in her tent with Adrian trying to plan for the future. The first thing was they needed someplace for a base. This encampment would run out of food soon. They needed to sail before that, but where to sail.

"How about this island off of pandaria?" asked Adrian.

"It could work. What is there?" questioned Zaela.

"Mostly just jungle, but there are a couple pygmy tribes that we could get to join us. As well as a old troll witch, but nevermind her, she hates all visitors. We can kill her once we land, but it's a big island we could easily camp there for a few months while we plan what else to do."

Zaela nodded her agreement. She turned to the map. Zaela was at a loss where to find more to join her. Her end plan was to eventually gain enough fighters to take the Blasted Lands and the Swamp of Sorrows. _I really should just travel there. I know the Horde garrison in Dreadmaul hold would join me, but I don't know about Stonard._ Adrian left then. Probably because Zaela grew quite. _First go to the island Adrian mentioned. Then on to the Blasted Lands._

Zaela continued to look at the map until she spotted Darkshore. There was a tribe of trolls there that had followed Garrosh into war. Maybe the few that are left would join her. _If I could get one of my mages to them he could teleport them here._ Zaela called for a messenger telling them to get a mage. Within ten minutes there was a call outside Zaela's tent announcing that Gruktag the mage was there. Zaela told him the plan and he almost instantly teleported out saying he would be back with any that wanted to join. Zaela was happy her plans were finally paying off. Her army was growing and there was hope for her to make her own claim onto this world.


	6. Danath

It was cold and loud in this room. Even in the warmest of summers Stromgarde found some way to be chill. The Stromic throne room was large. It was where the kings of Stromgarde had been dealing out justice and mercy for thousands of years. Today was no exception, yet Danath couldn't help but be annoyed.

All the people in here wouldn't stop talking over each other. As king Danath had to sit and listen to the bickering and the arguments. Only a year ago had Danath returned to take his throne and revive his nation, but these days he found it more annoying than prestigious.

"Hammerfell is a damned abomination! Why have we not gone in there and destroyed those black blooded feigns!" said an overly loud and billowy noble.

"Aye! Milords and Me King! We should march in force! We should destroy all that oppose us in our own lands!" said a common provost from one of the towns by Thandol Span.

"No! Stromgarde needs no more war! We need peace for the time. Let the Horde keep their camp. We already took back the farm lands they stole. They can stay there and the Forsaken can stay on the other side of Thoradin's wall then we shouldn't need to make war." yelled a militia captain.

Danath hated these meetings. Stromgarde had alway held a moot to decide things. Anybody over sixteen years could come to these meetings and argue their point. Whatever was eventually decided by a vote after a day's worth of arguing then had to be upheld by the court. _I don't mind hearing my people…. I only mind this arguing. Let the damn Horde rot who cares if they hold a small camp in our lands._ Danath rubbed his temples to help relieve his headache. His fingers brushed the bronze crown on his head. _The bronze is cold and heavy on my brow. Will I ever be able to take it off?_

"MY LORDS! MY GOOD MEN OF THE COMMONS! MY KING! Listen to me!." Laird Redulf Leder stood then. His brown hair was tied behind him and his beard was neatly trimmed. Redulf had led Stromgarde after Galen's passing and keep the country together. Danath sat up as this man walked to the front of the crowd. "Stromgarde has only known strife this past decade. We were broken. We were weak. We almost bent the knee to a foreign king. We almost bent the knee to the Banshee queen! Yet we endured. As we always have. Now with King Danath's return we are strong once more! Let the Horde keep their fucking village. We will be good men and have mercy on them, but I say this, Should they ever break our treaty… we will root them out and burn their damned home!"

It seemed the entire court started clapping and hollering. Redulf was still highly respected and what he said still had a lot of weight. The men and women in the room called out there acceptance of Redulf's plan. It was time now to put it to offical vote.

"As King Danath of Stromgarde I put this moot to it's end. It's time to vote on what to do about Hammerfell and the Forsaken presence in our country. What say you all?" Asked Danath. As expected most of the men and women yelled in support of Redulf. Only three had other ideas. "It's decided then. We will have peace with Hammerfell and the Forsaken for the time being. If there are no more matters for the moot and court to hear I declare this to be at an end."

Nobody made a move to bring up another topic. Danath nodded to his people and councilors and the room started to empty. Once everybody was out Danath took off the crown and held it as he plopped into the throne. He sighed and closed his eyes. _Was it this hard for you too uncle? Or did you love this. The bickering and the strife. Why can't we just have peace?!_

"My king, You look tired and quite frankly like shit. Maybe you should get some sleep." Danath opened his eyes to see Redulf smirking at his own joke like an idiot.

"Aye, I probably should. I hate this damned throne." Danath smiled tiredly at his comment. Redulf laughed and stuck out a hand that Danath took. Two of Danath's royal guards followed him and Redulf to Danath's private quarters. Once there the guards took to their duties outside the door as Danath and Redulf went in to share some ale.

"I hope you like our own Stromic ale. I don't have anything else." said Danath as he poured the dark ale into two cups.

"If it'll let me forget this particular moot then I would love whatever you have." stated Redulf with a chuckle. Danath handed Redulf a cup and both took a huge swig. They stayed up for another hour sharing war stories and talking about everything.

Danath found himself waking up in his bed with the sun shining into his eyes. As he bathed and got ready for the day a knock came to his door.

"My King, There is a paladin here to talk to you. He says it's urgent." said one of Danath's guards. Danath sighed and got dressed in some plain yet nice clothes. As Danath walked into the throne room he saw the paladin. He didn't look much like a paladin. The man had ratty blond hair a dirty beard and dented plate. As Danath walked closer he saw the man was missing his left hand.

"My good paladin. I'm King Danath Trollbane. What news do you have for me?" asked Danath. The man turned to Danath and kneeled.

"Your grace. I'm Andarin Lightsblade. I have the whereabouts of a woman that is very important." Andarin stood and smiled. "One Princess Calia Menethil."


	7. Vol'jin

Warchief was what he was now. Thrall gave him the title. He didn't want it. Nobody ever asked him if he wanted the command. He was already leader of the Darkspear why would he want more. Vol'jin sat on the Horde throne. It was warm in Grommash hold as it was in all of Durotar. It was mid summer. The festivities would start soon. This would be the first year Vol'jin couldn't enjoy it. _Why me papa? Why was I given this? Why not Saurfang?_

In the beginning Vol'jin enjoyed being Warchief. He started correcting all of Hellscream's policies and rooting out any officials that still held loyalties to Garrosh. Eventually though there were problems. Garrosh left no money in the Horde's coffers and he left behind a legacy. Not all of Garrosh's followers were captured. There had been five attempts on Vol'jin's life in only the first three weeks of his reign. Six months later and the attempts haven't stopped. Today Vol'jin will be having to speak with the remaining orc clan leaders. Alot of orcs don't kneel to a clan, but the majority do. The Frostwolf, Warsong, newly reformed Thunderlord, Bleeding Hollow, Burning Blade, Shadowmoon, Shattered Hand, and even the Blackrock clan's all form a council until a warlord is chosen to lead all the Horde orcs. The Frostwolf representative is Drek'Thar's helper Galvanger. Warsong is represented by the new chief Gargok Outrider. Thunderlord by Ormak Grimshot. Bleeding Hollow by Jorin Deadeye. Burning Blade by Arnak Fireblade. Shadowmoon by Marud. Shattered Hand by Gordul. Blackrock by Varok Saurfang.

The meeting that is to take place will elect a warlord to lead all clans and free orcs. Thrall, Eitrigg, and any of the other clan leaders. Eitrigg has taken a leading role in the clanless orcs lives with the blademasters. Even still with all this leadership the orcs aren't united as they were once. This meeting is extremely important to the Horde as a whole.

"Our people have been hurt recently. With Garrosh's actions the Orcish people are even more scrutinized than before. We leaders need to stand up and fight for our acceptance again." said Eitrigg in his deep orc voice. It was midday in Grommash hold where the orcs decided to have this meeting with Vol'jin overseeing it. It was hot, loud, and tiring. Twice already Vol'jin had caught himself looking out the window. _I want to be out dere. With my raptor. Not in here. Hurry up orcs pick a damned leader._ Vol'jin shook the anger away. Lately he had been having issues controlling his anger. Maybe he would go see Master Gadrin soon, but right now he needed to listen.

"I feel like we orcs don't have a capable leader. Perhaps we should keep this council as the orcish leaders." said Thrall

"ORCS BOW TO ONE, THRALL! WE BOW TO ONE LEADER WHO PROVES HIMSELF. We have need of a Warlord. We need one leader to lead us all. We are fractured right now. We need a representative." bellowed Chief Gargok. Thrall looked at Gargok with anger in his blue eyes.

"Arguing about it will do us no good. All who wants the title say I now and we shall have a vote after. Vol'jin will be the judge. said Varok. Vol'jin sat up in his throne at the mention of his name.

"Aye mon. I like dat way betta. All who want to be Warlord of the Orcs say I." said Vol'jin. One hand went up. Ronakada the Blademaster and leader of the remaining blademasters was the owner of the hand. When he saw no other hands went up he quickly put his down. "No other wants the title? Thrall, Saurfang, Eitrigg?"

Saurfang looked around and then raised his hand. Eitrigg looked old and defeated. Thrall looked sad.

"I wasn't ever too good at leading. I'll leave that up to a better orc." said Eitrigg with a smile that was half sad half relieving. Thrall still looked miserable. Vol'jin knew why. All these orcs were expecting Thrall to take the lead again, but Thrall still felt some apprehension about his decision to give Garrosh the mantle.

"Will you all excuse me and Thrall for a moment?" asked Vol'jin. Everybody nodded and Vol'jin gestured for Thrall to follow him. They walked back into Vol'jin's bedchamber. "Brotha, What your problem be mon. Dey want you as leader. None will be chosen over you." pleaded Vol'jin.

"They won't have me Vol'jin, That is final. I made too many mistakes as Warchief. I will not do so again." Thrall sat as he said this and poured some grog into a cup.

"Mon can't you see dat they don't care. You have grown wiser in these past years. Also you wont have all the power. I'll still be over you. I can stop your bad decisions." Vol'jin laughed at his joke. Thrall looked up and smiled, but it was quickly gone.

"My leadership lead to Carnie's death and brought dishonor on the Horde. This will only bring disaster." Thrall had a sad look.

"Bah! Brotha go out there and claim the title you were given by Doomhamma. If you don't I fear that boy Ronakada will be given the title. Nobody wants that!"

"Well Vol'jin if I were to do that you would be displaced" Thrall smiled. Vol'jin looked surprised then laughed at the joke.

"Aye mon. I only meant in the leading of the orcs. Even though I wouldn't hate to go back to my people."

"We all want to go back to our homes. I don't even know where mine is anymore. I was son of Durotan and now I don't even lead my clan. I'm lost Vol'jin. I'm just so lost. These wars we have won, but they have taken everything else except our lives." Thrall started to tear up. Vol'jin went to his surrogate brother.

"Mon you got two children and a wife. You gotta home. It be here with your people. Leading them with your family by your side. You are da Horde. I need you in Orgrimmar." Thrall stiffened then and stood.

"You are right Vol'jin. Thank you friend. Let's go put this to rights" said Thrall as he was already walking out of the door and back into the throne room. As Thrall and Vol'jin walked back into the room they could hear arguing.

"You vile bastard. You shouldn't be allowed here at all! Warlock filth!" Gargok yelled at Arnak.

"You are off the Warsong clan and you speak of honor!" yelled back Arnak. Gargok got up and pulled his two war axes out. Arnak picked up his staff and readied for battle.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" yelled Thrall as he got in between them. "We will hasten this vote so we can all get away from each other. All who want to lead raise your hands." Ronakada raised his hand again. Saurfang looked expectantly at Thrall who shared a glance at his friend. Saurfang nodded and Thrall shot up his hand with the doomhammer in his grasp. A cheer went up from all except Ronakada and Arnak. _Thrall! Thrall! Thrall!_

"I guess dat be the end of dis den. All of you go back to your duties. Drall will be with you all shortly I am sure. Warlord Thrall, Saurfang, and Eitrigg stay here." Vol'jin laid back into the throne as the orc leaders and their people left. Vol'jin let out a long sigh when they were finally all gone.

"Long day indeed friend." said Varok as the three orcs sat on chairs strewn around the room. The only people in the room other than the troll and the orcs were the Siame Quashi bodyguards of Vol'jin. Vol'jin looked around at his closest friends and advisors. _Dis peace will be short last my friends. As storm is coming I can feel it in my bones. Dey be shaking._

"We must start talking about the reorganization of the armies of the Horde." said Saurfang. "Without a plan the armies are spread out and random. We need a central organization."

"I be with you Saurfang. We should recall all top officers and redistribute warrants and commissions." said Vol'jin with a gesture to one of his guards to fetch some paper and a quill, But before the guard could come back with the paper another guard came running in.

"Warchief, There be a forsaken outside. He be asking for your time. He says it's urgent." Vol'jin stood and nodded. The guard ran back out and came back in a few moments later with the Forsaken. The forsaken was a in leather armor and had two knives on his belt.

"What is so urgent, friend" said Vol'jin

"Warchief, I have news on a certain person. A person that if in Alliance hands will start another war, but in our hands could be used to submit the Alliance. I know where Calia Menethil is."


	8. Sir Marek (Part 2)

The battle was going badly. The Blackrocks had smashed the army in the night. Marek's company had marched to Lakeshire, meeting up with other groups on the way, but that wasn't enough. While the army and town slept the Blackrocks made a mad dash to take out all Stormish presence in Redridge. Men all around Marek were being slaughtered. All the men were barely clothed and armored. Some men only had sleeping tunics and boots on. They all fought valiantly, but in the end it wasn't enough. The orcs had firepower and outgunned and out slashed the company. Marek had been up when he heard the orc's warhorns. He had grabbed his own horn and began to shout to his squire to run orders. Marek assumed his sentries and outriders were all killed, but none of that mattered now as a big orc in thick black plate brought a nasty looking axe down upon Marek's shield almost splitting it in half. The orcs axe was stuck in the shield. Marek threw the shield away as the orc drew out a dagger. The orc charged and tried to bellow Marek out of the way, but the old man was still spry and jumped out of the way. The orc fell face first into the muddy waters of Lake Everstill. The orc tried to get up, but Marek put his sword through the orc's head. Out of breath and tired Marek sat in the mud by the stinking orc's corpse.

"You fucking bastards.. Thirty fucking years I have fought you now you may just be the end of me. Fuck you and your demon cursed blood." Marek realized he was talking to a corpse and laughed. The laugh was dry and haunting. There was to be no humor tonight. Marek took out a flask. Inside was a deep red wine. Marek took a swig and looked around. The town was on fire and he could hear the screams of battle and slaughter. He saw Keeshan's rangers take out multiple orcs, but he knew they wouldn't make it. None of them would. Marek took another pull from the flask and sighed. Marek wasn't a particularly pious man, but he prayed now. He prayed to the Light for help of any kind. He prayed for his men to survive the night. It's no use we are to die tonight. Perhaps it's destiny. Destiny won't take me without a blade in my hand. Marek stood and drank the last of the wine. He pulled his sword out of the orc and took up the orcs dagger in his other hand. Marek ran up to the fray. It was bloody. All around the ground was red and there were random body parts strewn around. The men had gotten the war wagons and ironclads up and had formed a fortification of sorts to hold back the orcs. So far it was working well and the orcs were stuck on the other side as the footmen fought them from coming over the wall. A soldier ran up and yelled to Marek.

"Sir! We need to pull back our lines are faltering and we are being surrounded on the other side of the lake. We can still make it if we just retreat!" Marek looked around and saw the footman was right. on the other side of the bridge Keeshan and some men were holding off a party of orcs trying to flank the main line.

"Alright. Get the wounded across the bridge and tell Keeshan to get up on that ridge and start covering us. All the footman I want in the line holding them back with throwing weapons and spear jabs." The soldier rushed off to give the orders. They had made a line and that was holding off the orcs for now, but soon the Blackrock War engines would burst through the line and the orc raiders and chariots would kill every last footman. It was madness all over. In the air orcs on dragons and other flying mounts were destroying the air force. Gryphons and war balloons were falling out of the sky. The ironclads and war wagons were apart of the infantry line. The cavalry were all destroyed when the orcs first attacked as they hit the stable first. The wounded were being led across the bridge in haste and Keeshan had fought of the flanking party and was now moving to the ridge. Did the light really answer my prayers? Marek ran to the front of the infantry line and saw that the orcs were holding back. What do you have up your sleeves, black bloods, just attack already and get it over with. Just then there was a loud boom and all the men's heads turned to the bridge. The bridge had been blown up while some of the wounded were crossing. Only a handful were across it when it blew. The orcs started their assault on the main line again. Javelins and bombs were now being thrown. Men were being picked off all around Marek. Many different men's blood covered Marek's armor and face. Eventually one bomb found it's mark and an ironclad blew. Killing every man behind it and destroying a war wagon. Now the orcs charged into the breach. Marek's footmen didn't have a chance. Marek charged the breach, but before he could get there the soldier from earlier held him back with the help of Marek's two squires. The soldier was yelling something to Marek, but he didn't hear him. He was to focused on the carnage. Marek felt himself being dragged backwards and the world went black.

"Sir… Sir Marek… SIR!" yelled a squire while shaking Marek. It was late morning and Marek woke up in a daze.

"Whe..Where are we Malcolm? How did we survive the night?" asked Marek in a tired faraway voice.

"We're at the Three Corners. Captain Jaime, Mark, and I dragged you to safety and met up with Keeshan and his remaining men. We… We're all that is left, sir." Marek wasn't surprised, but he let out a silent prayer to his fallen comrades.

"Somebody must get to Stormwind and warn the king!"

"Keeshan already sent one of his men out to do that. We all need to move soon. A ranger just returned from scouting and said the Blackrocks were only hour away." The squire left then to ready some things. Marek sat up then and saw their little camp right on the road. Keeshan was yelling orders to his men to start packing. Captain Jaime came up then and offered his hand and a canteen. Marek took both and two men started to walk to Keeshan.

"Good to see you are still alive Commander." said Keeshan. "We are down to twenty."

"Aye I see that. We need to move. We need to get to Eastvale and start evacuating everybody." Keeshan agreed and the party started to move. As they got near Eastvale they could hear a lot of noise and eventually stumbled upon a High elven sentry.

"HALT! Who are you and what do you want with this place." yelled a beautiful elven ranger that held a bow with a deadly looking arrow notched in it.

"I am Sir Marek the Steelsong of Stormwind. What do the High Elves have to do with Eastvale?"

"The Steelsong? I'm so sorry sir you have my apologies. I didn't know. I'm Ranger captain Alessia. I serve under Grand Marshal Merlinhaus. You are welcome to follow me into the camp." Marek was confused last he knew Merlinhaus was in the Blasted Lands helping calm down the tensions between the Horde and the Alliance there. Marek and Merlinhaus go way back to the First War where they first served together. Marek's party walked through the woods and spotted many traps and hard points. Is Merlinhaus making a stand here? After five minutes the party was in the logging camp or what was the logging camp. Now it was a full fledged military outpost. Merlinhaus had wasted no time building up fortifications. All manner of Alliance races were here. Merlinhaus was a major commander in the Stormwind and Stromgarde military. He was also a very loved person by the entire Alliance. His five thousand man army was made up of all races and nations in the Alliance and only answers to the High King. Merlinhaus' arms were shown alongside the Alliance lion. The arms are a red fist being supported by two golden lions on white. On the highest hill were the saw mill used to be was now a keep. That was were they were headed. The party was silent as they climbed the hill. Marek saw him then. Merlinhaus was tall and built like an ox. His armor was was thick silvered platemail with a tabard that showed his arms. Merlinhaus turned and smiled a big grin at Marek. Marek walked up and the two men embraced.

"Marek! My old friend. Good to see you. I'm sorry about your men. I was recalled to help settle Redridge, but alas now I'm the main force against the Blackrocks." said Merlinhaus in his deep tone.

"I'm glad to see you to friend. I'm yours to command."

"Good. I'm in need of strong leadership. First you and your men go get a meal and some baths. I'll send for you shortly. Talk to Redbeard over there for some new armor once you get the chance. Keeshan you and your rangers are now under Alessia. You report to her as soon as possible."

With that Merlinhaus turned and started to talk to a gnome engineer. Marek, Jaime, Mark, and Malcolm all made there way to the food tent. Inside they ordered some meat, bread, and ale.

"What do you think will happen with us, sir?" asked Mark. Mark was a newly made squire. At only twelve years old Marek was proud he had stood the test of battle already.

"Most likely I will be given a command and you three will accompany me. Unless you wish to leave." They all shook their heads no. Marek smiled. "I'm glad to have you three by my side." Mark and Malcolm smiled and Jaime nodded and raised his cup of ale in a toast. They all finished eating and rested for awhile. Jaime and Marek told old war stories and the two squires listened and asked many questions. Eventually Marek decided they should go see the blacksmith. Redbeard lived up to his name. A big burly dwarf with a long red beard that was tucked into his belt was hitting a red hot sword on the anvil. Marek talked to him and ordered a suit of armor for all four of them. Redbeard however was not a quartermaster and Marek had to pay a good bit of credit to the dwarf. Marek said his farewells to Jaime and the squires as they went off to find a bedroll to sleep on. Marek went to the newly made keep and asked one of the squires if they could let Merlinhaus know he was there. After about twenty minutes the squire came back and asked Marek to follow him. Marek was lead to a backroom that was obviously Merlinhaus' study as it had papers and reports strewn all around and the smell of cherry tobacco hung in the air.

"Marshal. I'm here to be given my orders." said Marek with a formal tone. Merlinhaus looked at Marek with a weird look and then laughed excusing the squire.

"Marek we are brothers in all but blood. Never call me Marshal again." said Merlinhaus with a smile.

"Aye, So what do you want with me you damned bastard?" Merlinhaus let out a gauff of laughter.

"It's good to see you haven't lost your spirit Marek." Merlinhaus' tone took a serious note. "You remember the Menethil's right?" Who doesn't remember the Menethil's?

"Aye. Who doesn't? What about them?" Merlinhaus let out a sigh.

"I have many men under my command and I only trust you with this. King Danath sent me this missive this morning."

Dear Merlinhaus

I write to you urgently as something of huge importance has arisen to my attention. Calia Menethil is in the northern riverlands in Lordaeron. She is there as a "guest" to the river princes. Once her families vassals. They have kept her hidden, but the Forsaken have launched an invasion and an assassin who was to take a prince by the name of Reginald out saw her and remembered her. The princes fought off the Forsaken for now and that is how I know of this. A paladin named Andarin in service to Reginald came to me and told me all. I have sent a copy of this letter to Varian. You two are the only ones except me who know of this. I'm awaiting my commands from Varian. I'm shoring up my armies in case Varian wants a fast response. If you were to join me it would be all for the better. I know you are commanding in the Blasted Lands, but if you can so happen to get away that would be for the best.

Best regards,

King Danath of House Trollbane, King of Stromgarde.

"Calia Menethil? Alive? No way it has to be an imposter! She had to have died with her father." Marek was shocked. There could be no way it was really her.

"Danath isn't one to get excited over rumors. This has to be true. Marek I'm held up here and I need an experienced leader to help Danath. I want you to go to Stormwind and present yourself to Varian. He'll know what to do. I'll give you fifty men to start with. I will hold here and eventually push the Blackrocks back. I'm too old to think all this happening at once is a coincidence. This all has to be linked. We must find out how and why it's all happening." Merlinhaus was afraid Marek could tell. He was brave he would stand like steel, but he was afraid. Marek nodded.

"I will go and I will find out what is happening. Keep me updated on the goings on here. I still care for redridge."

"Aye of course. Once you reach outside go to the sawmill. There should be a sergeant by the name of Edward he'll direct you to your fifty men. You may also take that captain of yours and your two squires if you wish, but please make haste. Also Redbeard sent word that your armor is done. He and his apprentices do good work." Merlinhaus nodded then and yelled for a squire to see Marek out. Marek and Merlinhaus exchanged farewells. This is about to be the most interesting mission I've ever dealt with.


End file.
